


Winter Heat

by epiphany (subak_jumokbap)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Company retreat, Getting Together, M/M, Misjudgements, Snowed In, cabin fever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27322300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subak_jumokbap/pseuds/epiphany
Summary: This can’t be real.“Fuck,” he curses, running a stressed hand through his hair.“Indeed,” Arthur mutters. He lets out an exhale and jokes, “I didn’t know you wanted to ski that badly.”“It’s more of the being stuck in here for who knows how long rather than the missed skiing opportunity,” Merlin retorts with sass. He turns his head to look at Arthur with knitted brows. “We’re literally trapped in here, Arthur.”“Until the weather’s safe enough for us to go out,” Arthur reasons rationally. “A violent snowstorm doesn’t last forever. I’m sure being stuck indoors won’t be that bad.”
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 169





	Winter Heat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [528loves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/528loves/gifts).



> Happy (2 months belated TT) birthday!! Im sorry this came late and that it took me almost a month to write jsjdkd. But its here and it might not be good but i hope you like it!! (I’ll write you a better fic one day!!) im really glad we got to know each other!! Love you lots!!

The retreat, as with all bad things, was Gwaine’s idea. 

Gwaine who loves winter, who goes skiing every year, who can’t stop talking about his ‘epic’ skiing trips ever since the first snowfall a few weeks back. He shares them with just about anyone he happens to pass by be it in the office, in the pantry or even at the water cooler. It was only a matter of time before sweet Gwen from HR became one of his victims. Sweet Gwen, who also happened to be in charge of organising this year’s company bonding activity. 

Gwaine’s lively conversation with Gwen was the catalyst that pushed for an actual company trip, the first ever to be organised, instead of their usual annual gift exchange. Gwaine had managed to pump Gwen up so much about having a company skiing trip that she was able to convince the higher-ups the retreat was a brilliant idea. They surprisingly allowed for it because apparently there’s nothing like freezing weather and doing sports on a mountain to rally team spirit and encourage inter-department bonding. 

So it’s all thanks to Gwaine that Merlin currently finds himself trudging alongside Percival on a heavily snow-ladened path, a vice grip on his duffel bag and a scowl on his face to match. He doesn’t hate winter, no he quite enjoys the hot chocolates and the warm fireplaces. He doesn’t hate skiing either although he can’t say for sure because he’s never tried. The reason why he’s in such a foul mood is because the retreat is a three days two nights trip somewhere remote with only mountains in the backdrop and get this: he has to share a cabin with the one and only Arthur Pendragon from finance. He can’t even begin to fathom his luck, or rather the lack of.

Percival and Gwaine, being the good friends that they are, had adamantly refused to switch with him no matter how much he begged. The whole retreat was Gwaine’s idea in the first place and Merlin thinks if Gwaine had felt any sense of guilt he would have offered to find Merlin another roommate or offered him some form of alternative. But no, a miracle was more likely to happen than to have Gwaine be kind to him so Merlin grits his teeth and entertains himself with the thought of strangling Gwaine as he makes his way to their lodging. 

It’s not that he hates Arthur. There isn’t particularly anything going on between Arthur and him– they don’t have any kind of history between them. It’s more that everyone has issues with the whole finance team. It’s apparently something that’s been in the company for years. Merlin’s been in the company for only more than half a year but he had quickly caught wind to how much the other departments are irked by the finance department. Most of the complaints and the grumbles that Merlin’s heard of are about Arthur, notorious for being as immovable as a stone. No one has ever gotten past him.

The main reasons why people tend not to like the finance team is because one: the budgets they set for each department is cruelly tight and two: they’re very pushy about getting the departments to meet deadlines when they struggle with deadlines themselves. Merlin’s only ever had to deal with the finance team two or three times and they were nicely put it: demanding. He’s never had to deal with Arthur before, although he has heard of how much of an asshole Arthur is. He’s observed Arthur in action enough to not be fooled by his sweet first impression. Yes, he had thought Arthur was a decent guy in the beginning when he first joined the company but that was before he _knew_ Arthur. He still remembers their first encounter. It had been his first day of work– he was dealing with a paper jam in one of the photocopying machines when Arthur had appeared like a miracle and had helped him with it. Arthur had even smiled at him warmly as they made friendly talk and it wasn’t until Merlin was settled in the company a few weeks later that he started to hear the rumours about Arthur. Then one fine day while he was helping Percival with a task, Arthur had stormed up to them and demanded Percival to _please meet the deadline or face a budget cut_ with a very unimpressed look on his face before he stormed off. And well, Arthur wasn’t favourable in his eyes anymore.

Which is just as well, Merlin thinks. He’d rather find out Arthur’s true colours than be deceived by the mannerly act he had put up. He hadn’t interacted much with Arthur since the Percival incident and he would have liked it to remain that way for a conflict-free working life. Except that now he has to spend a whole three days and two nights with Arthur. He comforts himself by convincing himself that he’s taking one for the team– he’s sure no one else would like to room with Arthur. He’s a saint, he deserves a raise for this.

The cabins that Gwen has booked for them look snug and cozy from the distance, a space perfect to fit two people together. Merlin’s cabin is right next to Percival’s, who’s fortunate to be rooming with Elyan from sales. Merlin’s thankful Percival’s just next door in case he loses his mind from being in a room with Arthur and needs somewhere to crash. When Merlin enters the cabin, he finds it larger than its appearance lets on. It has a small living room and one bedroom where two single beds greet him. There’s a kitchenette to the right of the little living room near the front door of the cabin. The bathroom is a shared one and it sits right next to the bedroom. After a quick inspection of the room, Merlin throws his duffel bag onto the bed nearest to the window and sits at the edge of it. Arthur’s yet to arrive and Merlin takes his time to absorb the cabin. It’s a typical log cabin so he’s surrounded by wood everywhere but it emits a lovely feeling that makes it feel homey and warm. It’s a pretty nice place to stay at, a pleasant distraction from the fact that they’re surrounded by mountains everywhere he turns.

His appreciation of the room gets interrupted by noises from outside that marks Arthur’s timely appearance. Merlin watches the bedroom door and Arthur emerges through it soon enough. Arthur’s dressed warmly, a thick brown coat thrown over himself and a wool scarf wrapped around his neck. He has a black beanie pulled down past his ears and his cheeks show the slightest dust of pink from the cold. 

His eyes land on Merlin and he speaks with a welcoming tone even if Merlin is the one who had arrived first. “Merlin.”

Merlin nods back at him. “Arthur.”

Arthur looks really nice and put together. He always looks nice that it gets on Merlin’s nerves sometimes. He doesn’t have to look good _all the time_ and Merlin sees no point for him to dress up so nicely when his personality isn’t that well-liked. Clothes can only impress so much. He’s not about to be fooled by Arthur again. 

He watches as Arthur places his duffel bag on the other bed and rummages through it. Arthur talks to him without looking his way. “I didn’t expect us to get roomed together. I thought I’d get someone from HR but I’m glad. We can use this chance to get to know each other more.”

Merlin feels like there’s a trick somewhere behind Arthur’s words. He analyses Arthur quietly and sees nothing in his manner to give away to any hidden intentions. He keeps his guard up still just in case. 

“Sure,” he comments dryly. “We’re here to bond, aren’t we?”

“Can’t believe the company is so invested in our welfare,” Arthur comments lightly. He finally grabs something in his palm from his bag which Merlin makes out to be a wallet. Arthur pockets it in his coat and glances at Merlin. He raises a brow. “You all set? The charter bus will be here any minute.”

“Yup,” Merlin says, popping his ‘p’s. There’ll be a charter bus bringing them to the nearest grocery store for them to buy the things they need for their stay. Because of how remote the area is, there aren’t many restaurants or convenience stores around. It’s more convenient to cook their own meals than to find a shop nearby. Merlin plans on simply buying microwaveable meals or anything instant that he can cook quickly without much effort. He doesn’t deem it worth spending so much time and money on cooking something fancy on a short trip. That, plus he’s not the most experienced person in the kitchen. Takeout has been his best friend since his university days.

“I was thinking we could cook together? Since we’re staying together anyway. We can split the cost between us,” Arthur suggests off-handedly, readjusting his scarf around his neck.

So Arthur can cook, in addition to dressing nice and being seemingly in control of his life and having good first impressions. Merlin doesn’t know why that simple fact irks him and makes him feel defensive of himself, like he’s less than Arthur (just because Arthur can cook and he can’t). So without thinking, he says, “I’m very particular about food, it might be better if we do it separately.” 

He internally cringes once the words leave his mouth. They make him sound unlike himself (he literally eats anything) and he doesn’t quite understand why he felt the urge to lie. He thinks it has something to do about not embarrassing himself in front of Arthur for not being as capable in the kitchen. Yet he doesn’t quite understand why he should even care, which boggles him even more.

He stands in a rush and walks past Arthur, intentionally not making eye contact for fear he’ll flush even more embarrassedly under Arthur’s curious gaze. “Charter bus should be here soon,” he mutters and promptly leaves the room. He makes it a point to avoid Arthur the rest of the way by sticking to Gwaine once he’s outside.

Gwaine surveys between a can of beans and a can of tuna in a hand each as Merlin slowly pushes their cart down the aisle. Gwaine takes his time to meticulously read the contents which Merlin doesn’t see the point of doing because Gwaine, like him, eats just about anything. But Gwaine is always unpredictable and Merlin has learnt to embrace rather than question his weird tendencies. Both Merlin and Percival have already done their shopping in record time, simply sweeping in a handful of precooked meals and instant products into their cart. 

“How’s rooming with Arthur?” Percival asks mindlessly where they’re parked at the front of the aisle Gwaine is currently stuck at. He’s really taking his time choosing between different brands of beans and tuna.

Merlin shrugs. “Haven’t really talked to him much. Although, he did offer to share groceries and split the cost,” Merlin tells Percival. He makes a face. “He wants to cook _real_ food during this trip. Can you imagine that? He’s even so proper outside the office. Eating a little pot noodle won’t harm him.”

“He wants to cook together? Sounds pretty domestic,” Percival snorts. Percival gives him a teasing smile. “It’s unexpected of him to offer something like that.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But of all people, shouldn’t you be the least surprised? Didn’t you think he was nice when you first joined the company?”

Merlin looks at him, scandalised, and hopes none of their colleagues are around to catch that. He tries not to flush. “Everyone is nice when you’re new,” he hisses. “Doesn’t mean they’re _always_ nice.”

Arthur appears right behind them like he’s been summoned at the mention of his name, making Merlin do a little jump when he clears his throat. Arthur pushes his cart right next to theirs and peers over silently to scan their contents. Merlin realises a little too late and jumps in front of their cart to block Arthur’s view but it’s useless. Arthur has seen everything if the way he flicks his eyes up at Merlin and makes an amused face is anything to go by. 

“ _You’re_ particular about food?” He mocks, causing heat to flare up Merlin’s neck. He crosses his arms over the handle of the cart and looks at Merlin a little too teasingly for Merlin’s liking. “I thought you were talking about greens and organic foods and gold flakes and caviar. I guess I thought too highly of you.”

Merlin scowls. “I never said anything about them, you thought that up on your own. That’s on you.”

“I should have known better,” Arthur agrees. Arthur tilts his head thoughtfully as he watches Merlin’s face. “I could teach you a thing or two about cooking. If you’d like.”

Merlin doesn’t know why Arthur would offer such a thing, or think that he would appreciate getting taught by Arthur as if Arthur’s some kind of master chef. “I’ll be quite alright actually, thank you,” Merlin remarks through gritted teeth, dragging Percival with him as he pushes their cart away from Arthur. He grabs Gwaine while he’s at it and shoves the two cans in each of Gwaine’s hands into the cart. Percival cackles delightedly as they make it to the next aisle, which puts Merlin in a worse mood.

“Asshole,” Merlin grumbles later on while they’re in the queue at the cashier. He watches Arthur a few people ahead of them, getting his groceries scanned by the elderly lady at the counter. “Does he always have to act like he’s better than us?”

“I don’t know,” Gwaine comments distractedly, Percival having explained to him briefly what happened earlier in between spurts of laughter. “He sounded pretty sincere though? Who knows, he might actually care about what you feed your body.”

“Why would he?” Merlin mutters, watching Arthur flash a smile that has the elderly lady blushing. Merlin rolls his eyes. He’s such a flirt. “Just because we’re rooming together for a few days?”

“Maybe. Or maybe there’s more to it.” Gwaine wriggles his eyebrows and snickers. Merlin elbows Gwaine’s side without an ounce of guilt. There definitely is nothing more to it, Arthur is just an annoying dipshit and Merlin can’t wait for the trip to be over so he doesn’t have to see Arthur’s face for three whole days straight.

By the time they get back to their cabin, it’s too dark and Merlin’s too tired to be out skiing. They’re both busy fluttering about the kitchenette, keeping their groceries in the refrigerator and going about their own businesses in silence. Merlin subtly peers over at where Arthur is washing potatoes while humming absently and wonders what kind of fancy dish Arthur is cooking up tonight.

He moves towards the sink and lingers there under the excuse of waiting for Arthur to be done so he can wash his cup. He plays with it in his hand while he eyes the vegetables Arthur is washing. He clears his throat.

“So, uh, what’s for dinner tonight?”

Arthur glances at him without much thought. “Just mash and some greens. Thought it would be nice comfort food on a chilly night.” Arthur casually meets Merlin’s eyes, his motions slowed when he speaks to grant Merlin attention. “I can make some for you if you’d like to try?”

“Oh, no it’s fine,” Merlin quickly assures, his ego too big for no one’s good. He cocks his head towards the general direction of the microwave. “I, uh, I’m good with my-”

“With your microwaveable fried rice?” Arthur questions with a raised brow. “You know it’s not shameful to let someone cook for—”

“I don’t fancy mashed potatoes much actually,” Merlin quickly lies. “Thanks for the offer though.” He promptly cuts the stream of water flowing out the tap to rinse his cup before leaving Arthur to wash the remaining of his greens. Arthur calls out to him with a sigh, clearly aware that Merlin is intentionally cutting their conversation short.

“I’m good, really!” Merlin shouts from the living room where Arthur can’t see his face, otherwise Arthur would see the grimace he hides behind his chirp. “Just make enough for one!”

Arthur doesn’t take too long making dinner like Merlin expects and he joins Merlin at the small dining table in the limbo between the kitchenette and the living room. The telly is turned on at a news channel that Merlin puts on to fill in as background noise. 

It’s surprisingly not awkward having a conversation with Arthur over dinner and if Merlin stops to think about it, he has never been awkward with Arthur since day one. Arthur asks Merlin how he finds his dinner, to which Merlin replies firmly that it’s to his liking. He doesn’t bother asking Arthur in return because it feels like Arthur will just mock him about their meal differences. Arthur had even offered him a spoonful of his meal for him to taste which he had of course, rejected.

Merlin makes them tea after he finishes dinner because he fancied a cup and he thought he’d look like a prick if he didn't make one for Arthur too. Besides, dinner had been a nice enough affair. Arthur didn’t say anything that would have triggered him, even laughing at some of the things he hadn’t meant to be funny. 

Arthur thanks him for tea when he offers it but Arthur accepts it rather distractedly. His vision is focused elsewhere and Merlin’s eyes wander to what has Arthur looking so troubled. He finds Arthur’s eyes fixed on the news anchor on the telly and his ears take a moment to tune the news from background noise back into something worth listening to. His heart sinks deeper and deeper into his stomach with every word uttered out of the news anchor’s mouth.

This can’t be real.

“Fuck,” he curses, running a stressed hand through his hair.

“Indeed,” Arthur mutters. He lets out an exhale and jokes, “I didn’t know you wanted to ski that badly.”

“It’s more of the being stuck in here for who knows how long rather than the missed skiing opportunity,” Merlin retorts with sass. He turns his head to look at Arthur with knitted brows. “We’re literally trapped in here, Arthur.”

“Until the weather’s safe enough for us to go out,” Arthur reasons rationally. “A violent snowstorm doesn’t last forever. I’m sure being stuck indoors won’t be that bad.”

Merlin isn’t so sure about that. He’s never spent a full day with Arthur before, let alone a whole trip, and he’s not quite sure if he’ll manage. 

“There’s nothing to do here,” Merlin moans. “We’ll die of boredom.”

Arthur fixes him with an amused look. “We still have each other for company. I’m not as boring as the rumours make me out to be.”

Merlin stiffens at the indication that Arthur is aware of the rumours about him. He wonders just how much Arthur’s heard. “Never said you were,” he murmurs and averts his gaze. He turns back to the telly and watches worryingly as the numbers on the graph on screen appear in bold red, higher this year than any other year and warnings flash at the bottom to advice citizens to stay indoors.

“We can think of plenty of things to do together.”

Merlin doesn’t know why it feels like Arthur is trying to cheer him up. He glances at Arthur and then away. He feels dread settle in his stomach. “Let’s just hope the forecast turns out wrong. It happens all the time, doesn’t it?” 

“Maybe,” Arthur says, sounding resigned. “Only tomorrow will tell.”

Merlin really hopes for his sake that the snowstorm is just a scare. He can’t imagine spending the next two days in a cabin with just Arthur. Arthur isn’t exactly the friendliest in the office and Merlin isn’t looking forward to being locked indoors with such a personality. If they do get snowed in despite all the prayers and promise of repentance Merlin will send to god tonight, the trip will turn out to be one to remember, for better or for worse. Very likely the latter.

The night goes by peacefully with them keeping to their respective sides of the room. They fall asleep without exchanging much conversation. Part of it because of how the mood has dampened with the news about the upcoming snowstorm, another part of it because they’re too engrossed in doing their own things. Merlin remembers seeing Arthur’s lamp still turned on because Arthur had still been reading in bed (he’s so annoying) before Merlin drifted off to sleep.

When Merlin wakes the next morning, he sees that Arthur’s bed is empty. He pads outside to find the telly turned on and Arthur watching it with a stressed expression on his face. Arthur isn’t even seated— he’s standing a few feet away from the telly with his arms crossed and a cup of tea in one hand. He hasn’t even changed out of the clothes he went to sleep in and the sight of him has a bad feeling stirring in Merlin’s stomach. 

Arthur utters him a brief good morning, mentioning that there’s tea for him on the table they ate dinner together yesterday. Merlin acknowledges it with a soundless nod. Instead of joining Arthur in watching the news, he stalks right between Arthur and the telly towards the window. He pulls the curtains away forcefully and stares wordlessly at the scenery outside. Or rather the lack of, because all he sees is white. White, heavy, plenty and absolutely depressing.

He moans, closing the curtain back with more vigour than necessary. He turns around furiously to the telly and listens as words from the news anchor drift into his ears. He can’t believe this at all.

“We’re doomed,” he lets out dejectedly. “ _Trapped_. It’s the–”

“It’s _not_ the—”

“End of the world,” both him and Arthur say at the same time. 

Arthur eyes him pointedly. Between the two of them, Arthur seems more accepting of the situation. Arthur sighs watching his face. “Look, they say it might clear out by the time our trip ends. So that’s what, today and tomorrow of being indoors? We’ll be fine.”

“You think so?” Merlin asks skeptically, crossing his arms and rocking on his feet as he eyes the telly worriedly.

“Yes. Besides, I found a whole treasure of board and card games in the drawers under the telly.” Arthur nods his chin towards it. “We can pass time with that if there’s really nothing for us to do in here.”

Merlin thinks he’ll go insane being trapped here playing board games for the next two days with a colleague he hadn’t even wanted to room with in the first place. 

“Merlin, it’ll be _fine._ Why don’t you go and drink your tea? It’ll make you feel better.”

Merlin glances at Arthur and sees Arthur eyeing him with his lips pressed together. Merlin lets out a sigh and throws his hands in the air. “Fine, fine. We’ll just wait till the weather gets better.”

He advances towards the table and takes a seat. He sips his tea, finding that it’s at the perfect warmth. Arthur announces that he’s going to take a shower and they can talk about the situation after, if Merlin wants. Merlin reckons it _is_ better having some company than being all alone. 

“Thanks,” Merlin mutters right before Arthur disappears into the bathroom. “For the tea. It does help.” 

Arthur smiles gladly in return and then he’s gone.

Merlin phones Percival while Arthur is in the shower. He waits impatiently as the phone rings five times before Percival answers. 

“Help me,” he drones the moment Percival picks up. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Percival laughs into the phone. Percival seems too cheerful for a snowstorm going on outside their doors. Unfortunately, some people aren’t adapting as well as he is to the weather. 

“It’s not funny. We’re stuck in this cabin for who knows how long and I don’t know how long until Arthur bares his demon fangs at me.”

“Why? Did he do anything to tick you off?”

“No,” Merlin replies. Arthur has been nothing but _sweet_ since yesterday, even offering Merlin to taste his dinner and cheering Merlin up about the weather. Merlin isn’t sure if Arthur really is a nice bloke but he isn't about to let his guard down to find out. 

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I just feel weird rooming with him. I just feel so.. conscious all the time. Like he’s judging my every move? I can’t imagine being like this till the storm dies.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Percival says with a knowing tone and Merlin doesn’t like where it’s going. “Merlin, you’re feeling _nervous_. You’re nervous about being around him!”

Merlin thinks Percival has gone insane with cabin fever despite it only being an hour. “Bullshit. You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not,” Percival laughs. “And I think you know it too. You never hated him like we do. Now we know why.”

Merlin scoffs incredulously. “You’re speaking absolute nonsense.”

“Am I?” 

Merlin imagines a smug grin across Percival’s face and he’s glad they’re not physically next to each other otherwise Percival will regret ever doing it. “ _Yes_. Whatever you’re thinking, get it out of your head. I’m hanging up.”

“All the best!”

Merlin ends the call in disbelief and tries to convince himself that Percival is definitely way off the tracks.

The afternoon finds Merlin like this: arm-wrestling Arthur after lunch which had comprised of pot noodles for Merlin and chicken and broccoli for Arthur. Merlin from this morning wouldn’t have imagined _playing games_ with Arthur but a lot of things can apparently happen in the span of a few hours. In Merlin’s defence, he’s easily bored and Arthur turns out to be more convincing than he had expected. Since this morning, they’ve played a round of monopoly, which Merlin won and that was the only reason he agreed to a round of charades next because winning Arthur at monopoly does wonders to boost his ego. Unfortunately he lost at charades and to redeem himself, they’re currently having a go at arm-wrestling which, given the size difference of their biceps, should have told Merlin that it was a bad idea.

“Are you even trying, Merlin?” Arthur laughs, adjusting his grip around Merlin’s hand.

Merlin grits his teeth and tries not to let his arm shake visibly. “Please, this is nothing compared to what I can do.” Contrary to his words, sweat gathers on the creases lining his forehead and he thinks his wrist might very possibly be sprained.

“Please, demonstrate,” Arthur insists.

Merlin grunts, putting in all of his strength to slam Arthur’s arm down but Arthur hardly budges. He even has the audacity to laugh at how red Merlin’s face is from exertion. Arthur saves Merlin from bursting anymore veins and slams Merlin’s arm down onto the table effortlessly in a single try. Merlin yells out in pain, and shame, and hides his face beneath his arm on the table.

“You could have broken my arm!” Merlin complains, his voice coming out muffled against his own arm.

“I was being _careful_. There was no way I was going to break your arm,” Arthur remarks. He pokes Merlin’s head at which Merlin grumbles and shifts away. “Stop being grumpy. You lost. A deal is a deal.”

Right, the deal. Obviously, they wouldn’t have played if there was nothing on the line. The deal is that if Arthur loses, he’ll have to eat Merlin’s dinner that he very clearly isn’t fond of and if Merlin loses, he’ll have to help Arthur cook and eat Arthur’s dinner that his big ego doesn’t allow him to consume. Merlin should have known he was setting himself up when he agreed to arm-wrestle but he is a man of his words so he sits up resignedly and asks Arthur to take the lead. Arthur gets up enthusiastically and starts taking things out from the refrigerator, a set of instructions flowing out of his mouth like he’d rehearsed them. Merlin hates being ordered around but he bears with it because he is a man who loses with dignity.

“Here, rinse this,” Arthur instructs as he passes Merlin a packet of brussels sprouts. Merlin takes it begrudgingly.

“What’s for dinner then?” he throws out while he dutifully washes the brussels sprouts at the sink. Arthur tinkers about behind him along the cabinet of their kitchenette. 

“Just, maybe pasta and a side of brussels? How does that sound?” Arthur hums as he fleets by.

It sounds good. Merlin’s starving and the sound of it makes his stomach grumble. He’s looking forward to it but he doesn’t want to let it show. He shrugs a shoulder. “Sounds okay.”

The pause that comes before Arthur’s reply takes longer than it should so when Merlin turns to look at him, he sees that Arthur had been waiting for him to look his way. There’s a smile on Arthur’s face when their eyes meet, like he knows exactly how Merlin’s mind works. “Just okay?”

Merlin shrugs wrodlessly again. 

“Okay,” Arthur laughs and Merlin finds that he’s smiling along.

Dinner doesn’t take long to prepare and Merlin finds himself sitting with Arthur at the table in less than an hour’s time. They have a plate each of freshly cooked pasta with a side of brussels which although not much, Merlin takes pride in because he’d been in charge of it.

“Alright! Let’s dig in!” Arthur rubs his hands together before reaching for the fork and spoon.

Arthur takes a bite first and Merlin watches his face, tries to gauge from his reaction how well their hard work has paid off. They had admittedly worked well together in the kitchen, wonderful in fact, which Merlin could have never seen coming. Everything went smooth with loads of quips and harmless jokes thrown around. The both of them had even broken out into a song at one point. It was _fun_ and Merlin had an unexpectedly great time. Arthur hadn’t bore any fangs, rather plenty of smiles that Merlin doesn’t really know how to respond to other than to offer some of his own in return. Genuine ones, bright with laughter. Arthur had seemed to like them.

Arthur makes a face as he crunches into a sprout which makes Merlin gnaw his lips in worry. Arthur grimaces and slowly meets his eyes. Merlin wrings his hands in his lap which makes Arthur burst into a sudden laugh.

“Look at you! Relax! They taste great.” Arthur gestures to Merlin’s plate. “Taste them yourself.”

Merlin grabs his fork and dares a bite and he finds that the dishes are more than decent. Delicious, if he could say so himself.

“Right? What did I tell you? No more need for pot noodles.”

“I’m not addicted to them,” Merlin retorts with a roll of his eyes as he fully digs in but it’s more bark than bite and Arthur knows it because he laughs. The sound of it makes Merlin scoff out a laugh too. 

“You know, I never expected to be cooking with you on this trip at all.”

“Well you didn’t expect us to be snowed in either, did you?” Merlin remarks dryly, giving Arthur a look.

Arthur nods dramatically. “Touché.”

“Rooming with you definitely turned out better than I expected,” Merlin confesses, avoiding looking into Arthur’s eyes. 

To be frank, it’s nothing like what Merlin had expected. He’d expected a grumpy, easily annoyed Arthur like the one back in the office, the one that supposedly demands you to meet deadlines and would give you death if you add on to his pile of tasks. So seeing this Arthur, warm and caring, generous with smiles and witty quips makes Merlin feel like he’s been let in on a secret. Like he’s been allowed access to the _real_ Arthur, the one that isn’t trying to survive his way in the ruthless, fast-paced industry.

“I told you, I’m not like what the rumours make me out to be. When you’re in the finance department you’re going to have to be demanding otherwise people will step all over you and you’d never get anything done. Might get sacked in fact.”

Guilt stirs in Merlin’s stomach. He’d never thought what it would be like on the other side of the fence. “That harsh?”

Arthur shrugs. “We deal with the company’s money. We’re left with not much of a choice but to be strict. We’re actually a friendly bunch if you try to get to know us.”

Merlin snorts. “Well I wouldn’t push it that far.”

Arthur laughs. “Well, alright. We’re not the friendliest. But we’re pretty decent.”

“I guess,” Merlin agrees quietly. He guesses he’d been wrong to look at only one side of things. The finance team must be working under a lot of stress on the regular. It makes Merlin thankful that he’s in marketing where stress isn’t barking at him on the daily. The finance team may really be a decent bunch but Merlin thinks Arthur might just be more than that from how Arthur had carried himself throughout the trip. Merlin feels guilty to have been so quick to judge Arthur a few months back and to be keeping that impression of Arthur up till now. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” Arthur questions suddenly, like he’s aware Merlin’s thinking about it right now. 

“By the printer,” Merlin says, flicking his eyes at Arthur, a smile tugging on his lips as the memories come back. 

“You caused it to jam,” Arthur reminds him with a hearty laugh. “God, I still remember the look on your face.”

Merlin drops his jaw. “You said it wasn’t my fault! You said it happens all the time!”

“It does! But it was very clearly your fault at that point in time!”

Merlin gasps. “So you lied to me?”

“It was your first day! I didn’t want you to panic!”

Merlin’s retort dies in his throat as fast as it had almost come out and he judges Arthur curiously. “You lied so I wouldn’t feel bad?”

“Well, yeah,” Arthur clears his throat. “You were cute and I didn’t want you all panicky and crying over a broken printer on your first day.”

Merlin feels a rush of heat up his neck. “You’re just saying that,” he murmurs. They’re both not looking at each other now and the air is a little sticky between them. Merlin tries to look past the fact that Arthur had found him _cute._ He clears his throat. “This is coming a little late but I was really glad how nice you were to me that day. I actually thought we could have been good friends.”

“We still can if you want,” Arthur remarks with a light tone. When Merlin dares to glimpse at Arthur again, he finds that Arthur is already looking at him. 

“Yeah,” Merlin finds himself saying, not knowing what other words to say. 

A light smile dances on Arthur’s lips. It makes a smile tug on Merlin’s own. “The trip turned out pretty good, don’t you think?”

Merlin thinks he wouldn’t have grown close and possibly _soft_ for Arthur if the trip had gone according to plan. The trip worked, they bonded, but there’s also this strange apprehension hanging above their heads now. It’s not bad, just new. And a little exciting.

“Better,” Merlin admits, smile no longer suppressed.

“Better,” Arthur agrees with a delighted laugh.

After dinner, they spent some time playing UNO which had been a chaotic event. They had won a round each through plenty of yells and cackles ringing throughout the cabin. They wisely decided to stop before any of them could start getting competitive and result in them spending the entire night playing. They wash up and spend the time before bed lounging around each other comfortably. Arthur reads a book again before he sleeps, which he gladly tells Merlin about when Merlin asks him about it out of curiosity. He even offers to lend Merlin the book once he’s done. Merlin had been baffled at the offer but he truthfully told Arthur that he would appreciate it. Merlin listens to songs before he sleeps which leads to a discovery that his and Arthur’s music tastes overlap significantly, ultimately bringing them into an hour long discussion of their favourite bands and all the concerts they went to when they were teens. They surprisingly complement each other well and with every second that passes that deepens their conversation, Merlin’s walls fall down too.

Arthur falls asleep first after their chatter dies down and the night turns late. Merlin’s left with a tight feeling in his chest, a good one— one that isn’t heavy and makes him smile, one that makes him recount his conversation with Arthur like a fool right before he drifts off to sleep. He thinks he was right about Arthur the first time they met and he should have trusted himself about it. He had been harbouring the wrong mindset all the while like an idiot based on nothing substantial. He’s glad he got to learn how wrong he was because he realises he quite enjoys being in Arthur’s presence. And if he can say it himself, it seems Arthur kind of likes being in his.

Merlin wakes up early the next morning naturally, quietly leaving the room with Arthur still soundlessly asleep in his own bed. Merlin decides to cook both of them breakfast to redeem himself and also because he feels guilty over his attitude towards Arthur during their trip. Arthur had been nothing but nice, although more teasing than Merlin likes, but definitely nicer than Merlin had been. 

Breakfast isn’t anything fancy, just a simple plate of scrambled eggs, beans and toast. Just as Merlin sets it at the table, Arthur appears from the room with his arms stretched over his head and a quirk of his brows when he sees Merlin setting up the table.

“Wow, someone’s in a good mood this morning.”

“Speak for yourself,” Merlin quips back harmlessly. He beckons Arthur over with a cock of his head and takes a seat at the table. 

“The snow’s kinder today,” Arthur notes from where he momentarily glances out the window where the curtains have been drawn back. 

“Good news might even come in this evening,” Merlin announces. “The news said things might be better in the later part of the day.”

“We’ll finally be free then,” Arthur pokes at him with a smile.

“Was being stuck with me that horrible?” Merlin jokes and even though they both know it bears no malice, Arthur still answers truthfully. 

“No, I had a great time actually.”

Merlin feels like he had a great time too even though they didn’t do anything remarkable like surfing over snow on a mountain. He doesn’t voice it aloud though, thinking his smile might do it just fine. “No more skiing trips for me though next year,” Merlin remarks lightly. “It’s too bad for Gwaine. He’s been crying about it over text. I’ve his number blocked for now.”

Arthur laughs. He clasps his hands together over the table and hesitates meeting Merlin’s eyes. “I actually think it would be nice if we could go out and do stuff—”

Merlin feels his stomach twist. Was Arthur looking forward to skiing? Merlin doesn’t mean to be a wet blanket but he finds that he’s not very enthusiastic about the sport. “I’m bad at sports,” he confesses in a rush. “I’m not exactly—”

Arthur’s eyes widen. “I mean not necessarily only on this trip—”

“—the best person to—” Merlin rambles on.

“I was thinking maybe—”

“go on a skiing trip with,” Merlin says, the same time Arthur mumbles out “on a date.”

Merlin blinks at Arthur while Arthur just stares at him. The sudden silence that drops in is sticky. Did Merlin hear Arthur right? Arthur wants to go on a date with him? Rewind three days back and he wouldn’t even have imagined this. He wouldn’t have imagined wanting to say yes either.

Merlin ends up letting out a baffling laugh that cuts through the sudden sharp atmosphere and the warmth of his voice seems to melt Arthur from the rigid posture he’d been harbouring. Arthur lets out a laugh in a breath.

“You sure about that?” Merlin asks curiously. “I haven’t really given you a great impression of myself during this trip.”

“You don’t have to. You already did the first time by the printer.”

“You have to let go of that memory.”

Arthur smiles with a glint in his eyes. “Why? You were very impressionable then.”

Merlin rolls his eyes. “Right, almost crying over breaking a printer. Of course, very charming of me.”

Arthur laughs. He watches Merlin and tilts his head. “You can cry over spilling tea on me on our first date if you want?”

Merlin scoffs before collecting himself. His nerves buzz beneath his skin at the idea of going on a date with Arthur. It sounds wonderful. “Why not?” He says shyly. 

Coming out of the trip with a date with Arthur was definitely not something he had hoped or even fathomed would happen although he currently can’t say that he minds. He’s actually genuinely looking forward to it. 

Arthur smiles at him, looking part relieved and part happy. “Tomorrow? When we’re hopefully out of here. We can go somewhere nice and closer to the ground.”

“We can,” Merlin agrees. “Or you could swing by my place and I could cook us something for lunch.”

Arthur looks at him with a sparkle in his eyes. “You?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I’m sure,” Arthur remarks. His laugh tinkles around them. He seems to like the idea. His eyes shine brightly. “It’s a date, then.”

Merlin smiles. “It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> <33


End file.
